Scarred
by MatureContent
Summary: Something happens to Bart. Now he's running. It's up to Oliver to find out what happened. Rated M for a reason!
1. Chapter 1

**Scarred**

**Rated: M**

**Chapter One: In an Alley**

Bart slept on the ground, twitching slightly when the wind blew harder. A man from across the street spotted the boy and smirked, crossing over to him. Bart, unaware, remained in his dreams...until the man kicked him roughly in the gut. Bart's eyes shot open and he curled inward defensively, gasping at the suddenness of the pain. The man grinned, reaching down and grabbing the shorter boy by the collar of his shirt, and lifting him up, before pinning him against the wall.

Bart struggled, trying to shake the sleepy feeling from his eyes. He hadn't slept in days, and it was all because he was still having nightmares from the whole Luthor fiasco. The man was easily keeping Bart restrained, using his own height and bigger build against the younger boy. "Get off me!" Bart shouted, pushing at the wall in hopes of pushing the man back. But it didn't work.

The man grinned, breathing into Bart's ear. "You'll like this, though." He whispered darkly. "Don't worry. You'll like it."

Bart froze, eyes widening. He wasn't a little kid. He wasn't stupid. He knew what he was talking about. Bart's face reddened and he renewed his struggles. "Get off! I don't want it, now get the fuck off of me!" He kicked backwards, catching the man in the groin. The man simply grunted, wavering slightly before leaning heavily against Bart's lower body and placing a hand onto the back of Bart's head. He twisted his fingers into Bart's hair, securing his grip, and pressed Bart's face into the rough brick.

"C'mon now, don't be that way." The man murmured into Bart's ear. He slipped a hand around Bart's waist, touching Bart's flat stomach. "You'll learn to like it."

Bart couldn't move his head, or his lower body. He bit his lip, knowing that it was useless. He hadn't eaten in days and his strength was very low. Plus, he was tired. The man was taller than him. Stronger than him. Bart was easily subdued. Bart slumped forward, tears welling up in his eyes. He let out a sob.

The man shushed him, running his hand down from Bart's stomach to his upper thigh. He began to brush him gently there with shaking and excited hands. "Don't cry." The man whispered, "You'll be okay. You'll be fine." His hand slipped onto Bart's inner thigh, "You're so warm."

Bart shuddered, feeling about to puke. He stared at a crack in the brick wall, wondering if anyone would come if he screamed. Probably not. He was in Gotham, great idea that was, in the slums of it. Apparently, people never came if you screamed. They had learned not to. Most of the time the screaming was from some mob or another killing an unlucky drug dealer.

The man, feeling confident, released his grip in Bart's hair and began to slip his other hand down the back of Bart's jeans. He gripped the belt loop of the jeans and slowly, almost casually, pulled them down. Bart shivered in the cold, leaning his head forward and shaking his head, crying and wimpering. This wasn't happening...

The man once again shushed him. "You'll be okay. You'll like it."

Bart was pretty sure that he wouldn't like it.

The man began to hum. He had two fingers slipped into the elastic waistband of Bart's boxers, and one hand on Bart's inner thigh, feeling him there. The man's lower body was pinning Bart to the brick wall. The man then removed his hand from Bart's inner thigh and began to stroke Bart's hair. With his other hand, he unzipped his zipper.

At the sound of it, Bart cried even harder, once again struggling. The man clucked his tounge at Bart, shaking his head in disappointment. "I guess I won't be nice."

The man's hand returned to Bart's hair, twisting tightly, making Bart gasp in suprise and pain. His face was shoved harder up against the wall, the brick digging into his skin and giving the side of his face little nicks and scratches. The man's hand returned to Bart's boxers, fingering the elastic lightfully, almost playfully, before he brought the edge back roughly and let go, letting it snap forward. Bart jolted, feeling the elastic snap on his skin. He cringed at the pain, but didn't say anything. He was strong.

The man did it again. And again. And again. Until there was a slightly raised red welt there. Bart cried a little once the man sighed in satisfaction at the sight of the welt. "Just like my wife's used to look." The man murmured. He fingered the welt, putting pressure on it and earning himself another winper from Bart. The man smirked. "It's going to hurt a lot more than that."

Bart trembled, feeling the sudden absence of his boxers as the man slipped them down quickly. The hand in his hair tightened again as he was exposed. The man smirked. "I'm going to like this." He whispered, before thrusting forward into Bart, not preparing him or anything.

Bart howled in agony, feeling as if he were being ripped apart. The man pulled back before repeating the action. "You like that, bitch, you like it." The man said breathily into Bart's ear. "C'mon say it. I wanna hear you say it."

Bart shook his head, feeling only pain. His face was streaked with tears and dirt and blood. "I don't like it." He cried, voice sounding hoarse. The man shoved into him again and Bart screamed.

"Say it." The man hissed, "Say it, you little cunt."

Bart shook his head, sobbing and sniffing. "But I-"

The man pulled his hand out of Bart's hair, gripping the back of Bart's neck and squeezing slightly. "Say it."

"I," The man shoved once again into Bart. "I...like...it..." Bart gasped, tears streaking his face. He felt sick with himself, ready to vomit.

"I knew you would." The man whispered. "They all do." Then he started to go faster, hitting Bart deeper and deeper. Finally, the man felt pleasure, exploding inside of the younger boy. He leaned forward, pressing Bart's face into the wall in the process.

Bart cried, trembling and sniffing as the man finally stood back after regaining his breath. He let Bart slide to the ground before he reached down, grabbing Bart's jaw and forcing him to look up at him. Bart couldn't make out the man's face in the dark, but the man could see Bart perfectly well. "Such pretty eyes..." He murmured. Bart slapped the man's hand away, shaking his head. He couldn't take it.

The man frowned, "Wanna go again?"

"No!" Bart yelled, jerking back at the very _thought _of that. His head collided with the brick on accident and he wimpered, gingerly bringing his hand to the back of his head.

The man smiled, white teeth flashing in the shadows. "We could try something different..."

Bart looked at the man in horror. "No! No, just...Just go away!" Bart was still in too much shock and emotional distress to move away from the man.

"I'll do that...In a bit..." The man whispered, crouching down next to Bart. Bart opend his mouth to say something, but suddenly the man was gripping both sides of his head, yanking him forward, and kissing him roughly.

Bart yelled, smacking the man again, and shying away from him. He pulled his boxers up, and hugged himself. The man growled, reaching over and slapping Bart across the face. Bart wimpered, pulling his jeans up just before the man grabbed him, lifting him up in one fluid motion before pinning him against the wall and kissing him furiously. Bart raised his hands to push the man off of him, but the man grabbed his wrists easily and held them above Bart's head. "Bite, and I'll fuck you 'til you bleed." The man hissed before recapturing Bart's mouth with his.

Bart cried as the man kissed him, unsure on what to about it. He just...let it happen. He didn't want the man to see him exposed again. The man finally stopped, coming up for air and grinning. "Thanks, kid." He said, smiling. He shoved a twenty dollar bill into Bart's jean pocket. "If you ever need anything, well, come here. You're so tight, I might raise the price a bit, okay?"

Bart was released and the man walked away, humming again. Bart leaned against the wall, feeling exposed and cold. He wrapped his arms around himself, hugging himself, as he slowly slid to the ground, resting his head on his knees. He felt awful. He felt sick.

When he closed his eyes, he imagined the man's flashing white teeth in the shadows. He shuddered, feeling his stomach churn violently. He looked up at the sky, suprised at finding it a strange pink color. He frowned slightly. He couldn't stay in this alley forever, especially after what happened...And after what the man had said. What if he came back? Bart needed to get out of there.

He stood shakily, not sure of where he was going before he took off running. He watched, in slow motion, as the world passed him by, and yet, all he was to them was a blur. He raced past people of all shapes and sizes, wondering if any of them were that man. His feet glided over water as he passed rolling hills and mountains, using up his last bit of energy to just...get away. He ran, passing a farm field in an instant before he came to an abrupt stop.

He knew where he could go to.

**Review? Anyone?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Scarred**

**Chapter Two: Woman's Intuition.**

Colors streamed past him in unidentifiable blurs. Bart couldn't seem to actually _focus_ on what he was doing. All he knew was that he was running in the general direction of Smallville. He breathed evenly, ignoring the burning sensation he felt in his lower abdomen. He opened his eyes when he started to run across water, realizing with a start that he couldn't even remember closing them in the first place. _'Whoa, my focus is real off...'_ His movements were slower than they would normally be, which kept throwing his balance off, causing his feet to actually go _under_ the water with each step he took. His socks and shoes were soaked all the way through as he ran across large bodies of water.

He finally stopped when he reached the edge of the small town. He leaned over, placing his hands on his knees, and caught his breath, trying to regain his composure as he wiped his face of sweat and tears, and even some blood. He didn't feel good. He felt sick. He felt ready to hurl. Visions of what had happened earlier still plagued him. Everytime he closed his eyes, even if he was just blinking, he could see that man's teeth flashing in the alley, and feel that man reaching into his pants to touch him and to feel him and to-

He leaned over and violently threw up, coughing afterwards. Oh, gross. He needed a toothbrush, and some mouthwash. Just to get the taste of that man out of his mouth and off his lips. Clark could help. So would Chloe and AC and Victor and Ollie, if they were all still around. Well, Clark would be around, right?

Hopefully. Bart sped through town, not caring that he was tearing up the streets and ripping glass out of windows. He finally reached the farm, heart racing. He glanced around before zipping to the barn. He looked around. "Clark?" He called wearily. He stepped forward, looking through the shadows. He ran up the stairs to the loft and looked around, finding it empty. "Hey, Clark? Are you in here?"

"Bart?" A voice called up to him from below, "Is that you?"

Bart looked over the railing and spotted Mrs. Kent looking up at him in suprise. He sped down next to her. "Oh, yeah. I was just going through town and I-"

She cut him off by reaching out to him and placing a careful hand on his face. "Oh my goodness!" She exclaimed, turning his head ot the side and examining his swollen right eye. "What on earth happened?" She began pulling him towards the house, "I'll patch you up and you can have anything you like, alright? Then you'll tell me what happened, okay?"

Bart frowned slightly. "Mrs. Kent, where's Clark?" He asked, letting her mother him and drag him towards the house.

"He's out." She answered. "Something about some phantom or another down in Brazil...Oh, you hit your head, too!" She exaclaimed, spotting dried blood on the back of his neck. "What happened to your face?" She demanded, seeing him in better light once they exited the barn. "It's all scratched up!"

He faked an embarassed smile. "I, uh, ran into a wall."

She gave him a calculative look before shaking her head in exasperation and bringing him into the house. She led him to the kitchen and ordered him to sit on the stool. "Stay there. I'm getting the first aid kit."

"You really don't have to do that, Mrs. Kent. I'll be fine in a few hours, really." He said, grinning a little as she dug around underneath the sink.

"Nonsense." She replied, coming up with the first aid kit. "You're still bleeding."

She began to carefully clean his head wound, applying salve and reassuring him that it wasn't serious. Then she turned him around, handing him an icepack to hold on his right eye before applying salve to the left of his face, where the scratches were. She eyed the disarray of his clothing before packing the first aid away, minus the icepack. "Clark said you left the League." She stated casually.

He nodded, "Yeah, well, it just wasn't my thing, you know? Not exactly a team player. I'd rather fly solo."

"You've been gone for months, Bart." She sighed, "_Months_ without any phone calls or emails. Do you realize how worried we were?"

He swallowed nervously, feeling guilty, before looking up at her. "I'm sorry..."

She shook her head. "Don't apologize to me. You should be apologizing to Clark and Oliver and the rest of your teammates. You abandoned them."

Bart looked away. "Clark didn't want me on the League, anyways. He said I was too young."

She put a hand on his shoulder, making him flinch a little. He didn't feel good with all this touchy-feely stuff she was doing. He knew she wouldn't try anything, but still... "He was worried that you'd get hurt. You're like a little brother to him." She didn't give him any time to respond before she ushered him off the chair. "I'll grab one of Clark's old shirts and some pants, alright? Then I think you should take a nap on the couch, alright? You look exhausted."

He didn't refuse. He hadn't gotten a very good night's sleep last night. Once she handed him the clothes, he went into the bathroom and quickly changed. He came out, holding his old clothes. "Thanks, Mrs. Kent." He said, smiling a little.

"I'll wash these." She told him, taking the filfthy garments from him. He headed to the living room and fell asleep on the couch.

She threw the clothes into the washer, and added lots of soap. One look at them and she could tell that he hadn't changed out of them for days. Possibly even weeks. She went into the kitchen and fished her cellphone out of her purse.

She called Clark. "Hey, sweetie." She said once he picked up. "One of your friends dropped by."

_"Really?" _He asked on the other end. _"Who? I'll be over in a half an hour."_

"I don't need you to come all the way over here just yet. You finish what you're doing, okay? Maybe you could send AC or Victor over?"

_"What's wrong, mom?"_ Clark asked, noticing how she had doged the 'Who' question.

She sighed. "It Bart, Clark."

_"Bart?"_ Clark said in disbelief. _"I thought he left Smallville."_

"He did, I think. I'm not sure. Where are AC and Victor?"

_"They're helping Chloe with something. Look, I'll give you Ollie's number, alright?"_

She nodded. "Okay."

Once she got Oliver's number, she said goodbye to Clark after firmly telling him to finish up whatever he had to do _before_ coming home. She then dialed the millionaire's number.

_"Hello?"_ He asked.

"Oliver," She greeted. "Hi, I'm Clark's mom."

_"Oh, hi." _ He sounded as if he was just waking up, which was probably true, considering all the "work" he had probably been doing last night in green leather._ "What's wrong? Does Clark need help?"_

"No. I need you to come over here, though."

_"What for?"_

"Well, Bart's here, and-"

_"Bart?"_ Oliver asked, snapping awake suddenly. Disbelief coated his words. _"He's there? Really?"_

"Yes, now, he isn't in the best of shape, though. He's actually pretty beat up. Not too serious, though. But something's definetly wrong with him. He's acting kind of off." She told him, sounding a bit like a concerned, overprotective, mother.

_"Off? Off how?"_

"Just come over here and you'll see what I mean." She said, glancing towards the living room, where Bart was fast asleep.

_"Okay, I'm on my way. See ya in a little bit."_

"Bye." She said before hanging up. She held the phone tightly in her hands before sitting down at the kitchen table, closing her eyes in relief. She nervously thought back at how Bart's injuries had first looked, almost as if someone had inflicted them upon him by beating him up against a wall or something. She knew Bart wasn't telling the truth when he had told her that he had run into a wall. Call it woman's intuition.

**There you have it. The second chapter.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Scarred**

**Chapter Three: Ollie's Here**

The screen door to the Kent's house opened and slammed shut with a loud bang. Bart jerked forward, snapping awake instantly at the sound. He opened his eyes and immediately recognized Oliver standing in the living room. Ollie grinned at him. "Hey, kiddo. Where've you been?"

Bart sat up, blinking. "Did Mrs. Kent call you over? Or do you just drop by whenever your leather needs to be washed?" Bart grinned wryly at his own little joke.

Oliver shook his head, laughing a little. "Nah. I'm here to check up on you, kiddo. I heard you got a serious butt whooping, so I'm here to check if you're okay." He grew serious. "Are you okay, Bart?"

Bart's smile wavered slightly. "What are you talking about, Ollie? I'm the fastest man alive! Or course I'm okay!" He paused, suddenly realizing something. "_Hey_, wait a minute, I didn't tell Mrs. Kent I got beat up." He frowned. "I ran into a wall."

Ollie rolled his eyes. "Uh-huh. Yeah, save the story for someone who's gullible, Bart. A wall can't do _that_ to you." He motioned to the various injuries on Bart's face. "And I don't think a wall can hit your face _and_ the back of your head at the same time!" Ollie exclaimed upon spotting the bandages that were placed near Bart's hairline.

Bart blinked. He hadn't thought of that. "I, uh." He bit his lip, trying to come up with an excuse, but once he spotted Ollie glaring at him, he gave in. "Yeah. I got smacked around a couple of times. So what?" Bart shrugged, trying to play it cool. He blinked the images of the man's hands away. "But a wall _was_ involved." He tried to grin cheekily, but it soon faded at Ollie's intense glare.

Ollie glared harder. "_Who_ beat you up, Bart?" He demanded. "This is serious!" He added when Bart rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"I dunno." Bart said. Ollie opened his mouth, ready to say something, but Bart cut him off. "I really don't, Ollie. It was dark, okay? He caught me while I was sleeping."

Ollie nodded. "So that's why you didn't run away. Can you remember anything particular about them? You had to of noticed something!"

Bart glared. "It was dark! I was in an alley, Ollie!"

"An alley?" Ollie asked, staring hard at Bart. "You were on the _streets_? Where?"

"Gotham." Bart mumbled, but Ollie heard anyways.

"Gotham? Bart, what the heck? You know how stupid that was? You got hurt! It could've been worse! You could've been _killed_, or kidnapped! And no one would have known!" Ollie exclaimed, narrowing his eyes at Bart.

Bart licked his dry lips nervously. "Yeah, well, it was just a few slugs, Ollie." He said, trying hard not to cry, "I'm fine."

"No you're not." Ollie said quietly. "Something's wrong. I can tell."

Bart glared back up at Ollie. "You know what, Oliver? I don't need you to baby me! I'm fine! I can take care of myself! I have been for a while now!"

Ollie frowned. "Bart, you're only fourteen-"

"Shut up!" Bart was suddenly on his feet, "I'm fine, okay? I'm fine! I don't need your help! I don't need anyone's help! I can take care of myself!"

Ollie carefully placed his hands on Bart's shoulders, suddenly afraid that the kid would run again. "I know." He said quietly. "I know, Bart. You're fourteen. You know how to take care of yourself, but you _shouldn't_."

Bart frowned, looking at Ollie in confusion. Ollie sighed. "No kid your age should have to know how to survive on the streets."

Seeing where this was going, Bart sighed. "C'mon, Ollie." He whined, not caring that he sounded childish. "I don't wanna talk about this right now!"

Ollie sighed, "So you can't remember anything?"

Bart sighed. "Yellow teeth, Ollie, and bad breath. Really bad breath." Then he shrugged Ollie's hands off of himself and ran to the kitchen. He stopped, spotting Mrs. Kent. "Going for a run." Was all he said before disappearing through the back door.

**I apologize for the short chapter. Tell me what you think!**


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